Spade

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Spade Page 8

by S A McClure


  “Let me see it,” Amber commanded.

  “No,” Morta interjected. “Reviewing the footage is a waste of time, Amber. I have already watched them—multiple times—and have discovered nothing. Your time is better spent preparing for the meeting with Spade.”

  Amber rose unsteadily to her feet. “I think I have a right to—”

  “You have a right to nothing, Fortuna.”

  Morta’s use of her street name caused the hair on the back of her neck to stand on-end. Amber stared at her. Her hands shook as anger and fear overwhelmed her. She needed to rationale. To play Morta’s game. It was the only way to get what she wanted. And yet, she was finding it increasingly difficult to remain calm.

  “Do not forget from whence you came. You were nothing when I found you. I don’t regret the kindnesses I’ve paid you, but do not forget to whom you owe your life. I created this life for you, and I can take it away,” Morta continued.

  Each word was like a stab to Amber’s heart. She clenched her jaw so tightly, she thought she would crack a tooth. She was tired, drained, and physically battered. All she wanted to do was rest. To let the numbness take over and drift among her dreams in peace.

  Unfortunately, the desire to throat punch someone—preferably Morta—was overpowering. She grasped the blankets in her hands and squeezed to keep herself contained. “I could never forget what you’ve done for me,” she hissed. “But that does not mean I owe you everything. That doesn’t mean you own me.”

  “Well, actually, it does,” Morta replied snidely.

  Amber blinked rapidly. Her stomach dropped at Morta’s words. Hadn’t she just compared her to a daughter only a few days ago. Her eyes burned and her lids grew heavy as she stared at Morta. She exhaled, giving herself time control her emotions.

  “Alex, can you leave us alone?” she asked, not wanting Morta’s program to record their conversation. Morta had a nasty habit of using recordings to win future arguments, and Amber didn’t want to give her the opportunity.

  Morta nodded her agreement, and the computer program dissipated into a flutter of twinkling light. “Now,” she said coldly, “what do you wish to discuss in private?”

  Amber fidgeted with her hands as she contemplated exactly how she wanted to phrase her next words. She didn’t want to leave any room for interpretation.

  “You have shown me more kindness than I deserve,” she began. Morta cocked an eyebrow at her, her eyes turning a steely black that made Amber believe that she could never see their depths. “You took me in when no one else would. You helped me learn how to control my abilities. You gave me a home. I can never repay for what you’ve done.” She paused, knowing that the next words would be the ones which would, potentially, chip away at their relationship. “But, I can’t do everything you want. I can’t be who you want me to be.”

  “Enough,” Morta commanded. She clasped Amber’s chin between her finger and thumb and lifted her head until they were eye-to-eye. “Do you know why I am so hard on you?”

  “No.”

  Morta sighed between clenched teeth. “You should know by now that I view you as more than just an employee. You are the daughter I never thought I would have again.”

  Again? Amber had never heard her employer discuss having a child before. She sat up a little straighter, curious to see what else Morta would reveal about her past. She so rarely spoke about her personal experiences.

  “I am grooming you to take over when I’m gone. And these are the sacrifices we must make. You have to learn how to push through the exhaustion, the sheer numbness of witnessing things no human should, to manage our empire.”

  To Amber’s surprise, Morta cupped her cheek and ran her thumb over her skin in a tender caress.

  “This casino will be my legacy. As will you.”

  Amber shivered at Morta’s words. Although Morta had hinted at this before, the finality in her tone left Amber feeling numb. She didn’t want to control the Underworld. Not if it meant losing Morta.

  “I don’t—”

  “—Stop your excuses,” Morta cut her off. “You are recovered enough to do this.”

  Amber sagged against the pillows. She closed her eyes for a moment, willing herself to sit up again. To fight. To rise to the occasion.

  “Fine,” she grumbled. “I’ll meet with them. But I expect for you to provide me with adequate resources to ensure the deal goes smoothly.”

  “That’s what I have you for,” Morta replied as she passed Amber a death card with a single name written across the top.

  Amber read the name, her blood turning to ice as she realized just how far Morta was willing to go.

  Chapter Nine

  Amber trailed her fingers over the name. She knew what it meant. If the deal went awry, Morta expected her to dispose of Frost before he had a chance to communicate with the LaRues. Although she’d found him to be arrogant, he was also intriguing. She didn’t want to end his life.

  Not yet anyway.

  Biting her bottom lip, she slipped the death card into her pocket. There were too many things she didn’t have answers to. Who was the girl trapped in the LaRues’ basement? Who had sent the shade to kill her? Were they connected? Even though the shade had failed, she didn’t feel like they were any closer to getting answers.

  She needed answers.

  A light rap on the door drew her attention back to the present. This meeting meant everything for the future of the Underworld. Morta was depending on her. She would rather live an eternity lost in space than let her down.

  Jasper remained seated at the table as she rose from her chair and plastered a broad smile on her face. The long, flowing dress she wore glittered softly in the firelight. She’d added a few diamond bracelets to her wrists that clinked together as she held out her hand to Frost.

  “It is so good to see you again,” she whispered. She tossed her hair over one shoulder, letting her dark locks cascade down her back. Guinevere stepped into the room and snarled. Amber smirked at her.

  His lips twitched as he leaned down to kiss the back of her hand. His breath puffed against her skin. Hot. Wet. Oppressive. She cringed and bit back the urge to rip her hand from his grasp. He might be intriguing, but he could also be a snake.

  In fact, she was certain he was.

  “Are we going to finish this deal, or not?” she asked, slipping her hand from his. She wiped the back of her hand on her dress. The heat of his breath on her skin continued to linger.

  He smirked at her and his eyes gleamed as he responded, “Of course.”

  “Great,” she said, taking a seat at the table. She motioned for him to join her.

  Guinevere shoved past Frost to take the seat Amber had indicated. She narrowed her eyes at Amber, her nostrils flaring with every breath she took. Frost eased into the chair beside her. His hand slid around her wrist, his fingers tightening their hold. Guinevere looked from his grasp to Amber and slumped against the backrest.

  Amber rolled her eyes. They hadn’t been in this meeting for longer than three minutes and she was already over it. She tapped the pad sitting on the table in front of her and said, “I have the new offer Morta crafted. We hope it will be to the LaRues liking.”

  She slid the tablet across the table to him and waited for him to scroll through the multiple page document. His blue eye flashed brilliantly. He clicked a button on the tablet and the screen went dark.

  “Morta has authorized all of this?” he asked. His voice hitched, and Amber knew he had been caught off-guard by the offer.

  “Yes.” She shrugged her shoulders as she spoke. “If the LaRues don’t find this deal to their liking, we would like a detailed list of the things they would be willing to accept. Acquiring Spade is our top priority.”

  She reached across the table and tapped the tablet lightly on the screen. It lit up, and she pressed her thumb against the fingerprint reader to unlock the secret message she’d left hidden on a private window. A little green bubble popped onto the screen.


  Frost’s brow furrowed as his eyes roamed over the message. He frowned, his eyes darting up to Amber and back down to the tablet.

  “Morta cannot be serious,” he whispered, shoving the tablet towards Guinevere. “Read that,” he commanded, jabbing his finger at the message. His hands shook as he crossed his arms over his chest and glowered.

  Guinevere’s cheeks paled as she read the message Amber had left for them. She gripped Frost’s hand and squeezed. Amber huffed a small laugh at their reactions. It was bad, but not that bad.

  “I think that makes our position clear,” Amber said as she slipped her baton from its holster and laid it on the table.

  “You think threats like this will earn you the LaRues’ respect?” Guinevere spat. She gripped her own baton in her hand, the electric charge already sizzling as she drew it up and pointed it at Amber. “It won’t.”

  Amber shrugged again. “I’m sure you can understand my predicament. Morta wants Spade. And I want what Morta wants.”

  “You’re bluffing,” Frost snarled at her.

  “Am I?” She picked up the baton and twirled it in her hand. Blue light sizzled at one end as she initialized the charge. A blue haze lit up his features as she swung it close to his face. A muscle in his human eye twitched and pucker lines crept out from his lips as he sneered at her.

  She winked. “I’m sure Morta would enjoy extracting payment for our time, should it come to that.”

  His cybernetic eye flashed a brilliant blue as it trailed down her face and scrolled across the message again. His fingers trailed over his jawline. “I’ll need a moment to confer with Justine,” he said gruffly.

  His voice pitched at the end of his phrase, and Amber felt the stirrings of remorse swoop through her chest. She shoved the emotion down like the fly it was and grinned at him. “Of course.”

  Motioning for Jasper to follow her, she slipped from the room.

  Jasper gripped her arm firmly in his grasp the moment the door slid shut behind them.

  “What was all that about?” he demanded. His fingers dug into her skin, leaving bruises in their wake.

  “What, you didn’t know that Morta approved me to make a special amendment to the deal?” she asked, raising an eyebrow at him.

  His nostrils flared and his grip on her arm momentarily tightened before relaxing. “No,” he replied sheepishly.

  She rolled her eyes at him.

  “Morta didn’t trust you to deliver the message. Why would she? You’ve never had to tell someone they were going to die by her hand before.”

  He blanched. “You did what!”

  She lifted her chin defiantly at him and stared straight into his eyes as she said, “I delivered the message that if the LaRues decide to pull out of this deal, Morta will find and kill them, one-by-one, until there are none left as compensation for her time.”

  He blinked at her for several seconds without speaking. Her chest constricted and her breathing became shallower as she waited for him to respond. A dull thudding pounded at the back of her head and she wished that she could curl into a ball and nestle under a set of blankets.

  She inhaled deeply, letting the pressure build in her lungs until it felt as if she were going to explode. Her fingertips numbed as she squeezed her hands together and forced herself to smile at him. This is how she survived.

  “Why would you agree to that?”

  “I’m a blood-thirsty bitch who enjoys destroying others. What can I say?” She smirked at him. Tendrils of doubt curled around her heart and squeezed. She lifted her chin higher. She would give him no reason to doubt her confidence in following Morta’s orders, even if queasiness roiled in her stomach.

  He glared at her. “What in the stars does that even mean?” He paused and then jabbed his finger at her chest. “Stars, Fortuna! Do you even know what you’ve done?” His breathing was so heavy that it made her skin crawl to hear him.

  She sighed, her shoulders sagging. “Look, Jasper, I know that you’re still angry from our last meeting with Spade, and maybe you have every right to be, but this was a direct order from Morta. You know I couldn’t refuse.”

  He held her gaze for several seconds. The tightness in her chest thickened the longer he stared her down. She swallowed hard and blinked. He was already looking away when she opened her eyes again.

  She placed a hand on his forearm, and he flinched away from her. She scowled at him. Raging fire coursed through her veins at his rejection.

  “Seriously?” she could barely contain the venom from seeping into her voice. “I thought you, of all people, might understand what it’s like to receive an order from Morta directly. I’m sorry that she didn’t choose you, okay? I’m sorry that I am always the one who gets stuck doing the dirty work because she knows I can basically manipulate my way out of anything. Last time, I was unprepared for Guinevere. This time I wasn’t. So,” she paused to take a breath. “So, you can just shove it, alright? I haven’t done anything wrong.”

  He released a puffing sound and turned away from her. “Whatever you say, Fortuna. This is your game now. I’m just here to make sure you don’t get us both killed.”

  She stood behind him, shaking. Who the hell did he think he was? Did he even realize all the things she’d been through in the past week? She’d almost died, for stars’ sake. And here he was, acting all angry, as if she were the problem. She crossed her arms over her chest.

  Jasper slammed his palm onto the door’s scanner with a loud bang. The metal frame shook before flashing green. The door slid open with soft grinding sound. Jasper stepped back into the room without looking back at her. Amber clenched her hands, the tightness in her chest painful, as she followed.

  Frost was alone at the table. His blue eye glowed brightly as she took her seat again. His features were a mask of placidity. Jasper went to stand in a corner, his arms crossed over his chest. He glowered at her when Amber glanced at him.

  “You will be happy to know that Justine has approved all of Morta’s terms,” Frost whispered. His voice was barely audible across the table, but it was so cold, Amber could imagine it slicing right through her. “Except one.”

  She cocked an eyebrow at him. “Except one?”

  “She wants thirty days to close out her accounts and let her special clients know that the doors to Spade will no longer be owned by the LaRues.”

  “That’s double what Morta asked for!” Amber slammed her fists on the table. She kicked back her seat as she rose. Leaning across the table she snarled at him. Her stabilizers whirred as she imagined fighting with him. Her body wanted to respond. Her mind hesitated.

  “Yes, and your master ordered you to kill them all if she didn’t comply, so I don’t really think you have a reason to be upset that they’re simply asking for more time.”

  She clenched and unclenched her hands. She wasn’t sure Morta would approve that long to officially close. She stole a glance at Jasper, but he steadfastly avoided her eyes.

  “And the LaRues have agreed to everything else we asked for?” she confirmed.

  Frost nodded.

  “And they’re willing to sign off on the agreement today? To lock it in, with no further negotiation?”

  He sighed. “Yes, Fortuna, they’re willing to agree to everything else today. The signed agreement will be sent to both set of lawyers for filing.”

  She held her breath, waiting for her ‘spidey-sense’ to kick in.

  Nothing happened.

  The corners of her mouth perked slightly. This wasn’t a trick. There was no way Guinevere would be able to stop her innate abilities from warning her off. This was real.

  They had won.

  She sank back into her seat, a smug smile stretched across her face. “It seems we have a deal.”

  Chapter Ten

  “Are you really sure you want to host an elaborate party now?” Amber asked as she held up a slinky black dress that looked to be about three sizes too small. It sparkled slightly as it reflected the overhead
light. She tossed it over her shoulder as she reached for the next one.

  Morta’s apartment had an entire closet dedicated to just dresses. Most of them were low-cut and form-fitting. Sexy, just the way Morta liked them.

  Morta’s apartment was a mixture of dark, Terran relics and posh decorations. Candles burned in sconces on the wall. Their flickering light sent shadows writhing across the room. A giant chandelier glittered in the dressing room. Crown molding cased the room.

  “Yes,” Morta replied, stepping out from behind the changing screen across the room.

  Amber gasped slightly at the dress her employer wore. It shimmered silver with each of Morta’s movements. It hugged her slender middle and accentuated her bosom before flowing out in a fuller skirt. Little silver butterflies fluttered over the layers of fabric on the skirt.

  “What?” Morta asked, stopping in her tracks when she noticed Amber’s expression.

  Amber wiped her hand over her face. “Nothing. It’s just that, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you wear something as gorgeous as that dress.”

  “It’s just a dress, Amber. The real power lies in the person wearing it.” She winked at her, a sly smile cresting her lips. “Besides, I want everyone to know who the real queen of Thoth is.”

  Amber watched as she riffled through the drawers of her dresser. Jewels sparkled as they caught the light. The various pieces clinked as they struck one another. Although she’d been allowed to gaze longingly at the jewelry, she’d never been allowed to wear any of it.

  Morta withdrew a box from the deepest drawer at the bottom of the dresser. It was simple, even plain. Dust puffed from it as she removed the lid and reached inside. Amber leaned forward, anxious to catch a glimpse of the treasure the box held. She held her breath as Morta lifted a velvet bag and weighed it in her hand.

  Her eyes widened when she saw the crown Morta withdrew from it. Delicate strands of silver wove in and out of each other, forming a knotted, swirling pattern on the sides of the crown. It curved downward at the front, coming to a peak with a small skull with opal eyes at its center. The back of the crown was a mixture of silver strands and opals, arranged in floral pattern.

 

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